Cowboys on the Road Tonight
by msjgatsby
Summary: The story was based on a song, but due to site politics, it is currently gutted and left dying on my creative cutting room floor.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** While on vacation, my ipod reset and lost all my songs. So on the drive back, I had nothing to listen to but old (mostly scratched) cds. Luckily one of my favorite songs on the Counting Crows Album, Cowboys, was not scratched. So I listened to the same song for essentially 10 hours straight on repeat, and in my head wrote this story.

If you haven't heard the song I highly recommend it (though maybe not on repeat for 10 hours).

**New Note:** Apparently there is an entire underground community I did not know about that likes to go around looking for stories to report. It has a problem with me using parts of the lyrics as framing references. Which is a shame, because my entire interest in the story is dividing the song up into chapters. It's unfortunate these trolls exist in the creative community, but I don't feel like fighting with strangers, so I'm gutting my favorite aspect of the story.

I have to be honest, without the lyrics I may not have the inspiration to finish this story.

To get around this minor technicality, I would advise googling the lyrics. It's so arbitrary that the forum encourages you to play with parts of intellectual property and forbids you to creatively play with others. Such a shame.

* * *

It seemed every other streetlamp was burnt out, as Mike drove down the darkened streets of Los Angeles. The road ahead seemed pitch black in comparison to his knuckles, which glowed white from the tight grip of both his hands on the steering wheel. His eyes stayed locked ahead, unseeing, as he concentrated on nothing but the road and the task before him.

The radio plays softly in the background, but is unheard over the roar of Mike's thoughts, until the soft familiar strums of a guitar catch his attention.

He stares at the radio, positive that he's being haunted by a ghost.

The song Desperado is playing.

Bello's favorite song.

Mike hasn't thought about the gangster in months, but the song suddenly makes him realize the very memory of Bello has been haunting him silently in the background all along. The ghost of Bello has been wrapping around Mike's neck, seeping into his skin, poisoning him. Mike looks in the rearview mirror and his blue eyes are blood shot and empty. He is no longer the white knight. He was dark and twisted, prepared to do whatever was necessary to achieve his ends. He was no different than Bello.

What had Bello called them? Oh yes. Cowboys.

Mike was no longer on the right side of the law. He was an outlaw. A cowboy.

No matter how pure his motives may have started off, somehow desperation had led him to break the rules in pursuit of his own brand of vigilante justice. Mike could dress it up with as many pretty justifications and rationales as he wanted, but in his heart he knew what this was he was intending to do.

It was murder.

The idea of it makes his stomach twist, but he's surprised with how easily that feeling passes. Mike has killed men before, but he's never murdered anyone. Is this really all that different? Either way, the world will hold one less man.

"_…You better let somebody love you, before it's too late._" The song fades quietly to an end, and Mike can't help but smirk at the irony of the last words of the song.

It was too late. He had lost her love when he broke his word and rescued Paige instead of Leena from that hellhole she'd been trapped in. He didn't have a doubt that he loved her, but all the love in his heart wouldn't be enough to save his damned soul. He was now truly lost. She would never love him after he committed this crime. He would never deserve her love.

But she would be safe.

With new determination, Mike parks the car on the side of the street. He doesn't even remember driving here, but it's only once he turns the engine off and is left in an eerie silence, that he realizes how lost in thought he was.

Somewhere in the distance he hears a muffled pounding and some people screaming, though that may just be his heart trying to escape his chest. He catches his eyes beginning to drift to the passenger seat beside him, and forces his gaze straight ahead again, refusing to look at what he knows the seat holds.

He turns his head to the left, away from the seat, and stares at the house across the street. There is a lone light burning out of the living room window. The other houses on the street are dark. As Mike stares out at the window, the person who he knows occupies the house, his resolve hardens along with his jaw. This has to be done. This evil has to be stopped.

He finally turns to the seat next to him. The seat is empty except for the gun that gleams against the black leather of the seat. The only other thing occupying the seat is an old rumpled piece of paper.

Mike hesitates momentarily looking between the two. The gun is powerful. It's silver shining in the moonlight. The paper looks weak in comparison. He doesn't even know why he brought it.

Yes, he does. He brought it because it was his childhood drawing that Paige had thrown back in his face when she screamed at him about how he had changed, and everything he said was now lies.

She was right of course. She always was. Even now as he stares at the paper, Mike is realizing a part of him is still hoping Paige will somehow save him from himself. The childhood scrawl is fading on the worn paper, much like Mike's resolve to serve his country as an FBI agent. It just isn't enough. There's too much evil in the world. He was naïve to think he could fight it and win as an FBI agent.

He reaches out and wraps his hand around the cool handle of the pistol. He swings his feet out of the car to touch the road, but somehow he can't leave the car. He finally turns back and grabs the piece of paper, shoving it roughly into his back pocket. He can't leave it behind. He has to carry it along to feel the weight of all the dreams he's giving up.

Mike walks up the lawn, avoiding the sidewalk to the door. He crouches below the window, hidden from sight from the street by the shrubbery. He needs to look inside the house. Plot out how he will execute his plan.

Peaking up, hidden by the darkness of the night by any insiders, Mike finally looks in through the glass, his eyes swiftly lock on his prey.

Detective Sid Markum stands in the middle of the yellow living room. It's a sparsely decorated house, clearly a bachelor pad. There's a couch, a tv that looks like it's from the eighties, a lamp, and a mismatched coffee table. There's a messy desk in the corner with a ripped office chair.

Sid, is not sitting though. He's standing in the middle of the room, wearing a wrinkled dress shirt and a tie that is as always just slightly crooked. He's holding a glass of whiskey and talking to himself. Mike can't hear what he's saying, but watches as Sid laughs to himself, and Mike smirks smugly.

"That's right jackass, laugh now at your own stupid jokes. By the time tonight's done you won't be laughing." Mike mutters under his breath.

Mike has seen all he needs to see. He begins to shift positions quietly to sneak around back, but then something stops him dead in his tracks. His blood races cold as he stares into the window and realizes he has made a crucial mistake.

Sid is not talking himself.

Sid is talking to the beautiful blonde who walks sultrily out of the kitchen into the living room and clinks glasses her whiskey glass against his.

God no. Anyone but her.

Anyone but Paige.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: I want to finish this story, and I want to do it my way despite the trolls. I'm working on some backup plans. Stay tuned.

* * *

What is Paige doing inside Sid Markham's house? Mike didn't even know Paige knew the corrupt cop. Mike's heart is pounding in his chest as he leans up against the building, hiding out of sight. He knows it's ridiculous but even though he's hidden by the darkness of the night, he feels like Paige's eyes see right through him. Curiosity gets the best of him though, and he again peaks up through the window.

He hasn't seen Paige in weeks, and she's even more beautiful than he remembers. His heart aches as he watches her, smiling at Sid. Listening intently to whatever he's saying. She's barefoot in his living room, dressed in the same purple dress that she wore the first night Mike saw her. He always loved that dress on her. The way it hugged her curves tightly, the way Mike longed to hold her. Just like that first night, he couldn't help but stare.

Apparently the dress was having a similar effect on Sid, who took Paige's glass from her and set them both down on the coffee table. Like a shark, he slowly circled around Paige, coming up close behind her. Paige smirked to herself, fully aware of the effect she was having on Sid, but unaware of Mike watching from outside.

Sid stood close behind her, his left hand curling around her hip and his right hand coming up to brush her long hair to the side, letting his finger trail over her exposed neck. A visible shiver ran up her spine and she closed her eyes as his lips came to follow the path his finger traced. Mike couldn't tell if she shivered from desire or disgust. Either way, he had seen enough.

He walked in a haze back to his car, and slammed the door. He sat in the darkened driver's seat taking deep breaths and fighting back the urge to scream. Sid Markham had taken everything from Mike, and now he had her too. It was like a sick twisted alternate universe. When Mike had first met the rumpled unassuming crooked cop, he had no idea that he was capable of all this. Mike had been so cocky. How did he get to this desperate point?

Mike placed the gun back on the seat beside him. He knew he would have no use for it tonight. He couldn't risk anything while Paige was here. She could not see his fall. Even if she left, he couldn't trust himself to be able to handle the job in this emotional state. All he can do is wait. So in the dark silent car he sits and waits, trying to figure out how to work this sudden twist into his plans.

Time seems to crawl to a stop and rush through him all at the same time. Mike doesn't know if it's minutes or hours he sits in that car before he sees Sid hold the front door open for Paige to emerge.

Mike's slouches down low in his seat, his fingers bawling into fists as he watches. Sid kisses Paige on the lips goodnight, and then she turns and walks down the steps.

Once the door is closed behind her he silently emerges from his car, unnoticed by Paige in the darkness. She is walking casually ahead of him, clearly lost in thoughts about the events of the evening inside Sid's house that are unknown to Mike. He can't tell what she's thinking, but he can tell whatever it is has all her concentration.

It is the only reason Mike manages to sneak up silently behind her.

With both hands he wraps the clean strip of cotton he holds around her mouth, pulling tightly so she can't scream. Her hands automatically come flying up to prevent her attacker, but Mike is prepared for this too. In a flash her wrists are cuffed together.

Next he goes for her ankles with a rope. She fights him of course, but his weight crashes against her legs and she loses her balance and falls forward. Mike winces at the loud cracking noise as her head hits the sidewalk. She is only fazed for a moment before she resumes her struggles against him. She's kicking with all her might, until he finally restrains her, tying her ankles together, leaving her panting in defeat on the ground, completely bound.

Standing up and looking around to make sure no one heard the struggle, Mike quickly picks her up, and throws her over his shoulder, carrying her back to his car.

She begins to wiggle again, still fighting him even though the only thing she can hope to accomplish by it at this point, is getting dropped. Mike admires her persistence though as she writhes in his arms. As long as she's fighting he knows she's alive.

He swiftly sets her into the trunk of his car, and it's the first time she lays eyes on her attacker. He sees the moment she recognizes him in the dark. Her eyes widen in surprise and quickly narrow from a look of panic and fear to a glare of pure hatred.

At this point she ceases all struggling, accepting this strange fate for now. Her eyes just staring him down with that piercing glare of death. Mike is caught in her gaze, unable to look away. Even though her eyes are anything but welcoming, it's been too long since he's seen those beautiful green eyes looking back at him. The noise of a neighbor taking out the trash brings Mike back to reality, and he reluctantly closes the door to the trunk and quickly drives away.

When he gets to the parking lot of where he's been hiding out for the past few weeks, Mike rushes around and sighs in relief as he opens the trunk to find Paige still there and glaring at him. He'd been afraid something would happen on the drive. Now that he was reunited with her, he just wanted to be near her again no matter how pissed she may be with him.

Mike carries Paige like a bride across the threshold of the small motel room. Luckily the seedy motel is the kind of place where no one asks questions. Even if there's a man carrying a gagged and bound woman into his room. She has stopped struggling for the moment, but he can tell by the darting of her eyes that she's taking in her surroundings, planning her escape.

Once she's seated, locked as comfortably as possible to the shabby motel chair, he busies himself around the room gathering a wet cloth, some bandages and ointment. She glares up at him as he presses a cold compress to the bruise that's forming on her forehead from where her head hit the cement. He avoids her eyes, tenderly caring for her wounds. Thankfully she seems alright. Just a few bruises and scratches.

When he's done, he bashfully cleans up and stands before her with his hands on his hips, not quite sure what to do now. It's not like he was planning on kidnapping her tonight. She raises an eyebrow at him with impatience and makes a muffled noise of displeasure. Even with the gag in place Mike can understand her perfectly.

"Ok, yes I'm going to remove your gag. Just let me talk first, ok?" He answers her in a flustered tone, as if she has any choice but to listen right now. "Look, I'm sorry about this, but I needed to talk to you and I couldn't risk you making a scene in the street. Paige, I've been wanting to talk to you for days, but I just couldn't find a way. Every branch of the government is after me and I need to lay low right now."

Of course she doesn't respond other than a continued glare, but Mike continues to talk. Trying to explain, and make her understand. He had no choice.

"I don't know who to trust. You're the only one, Paige. The only person I can trust. But they know that. Everyone knows how I feel about you and I know they're watching the house. With Graceland on lockdown, I would have no chance of getting to you there. Paige, I know you hate my guts, and you don't trust me, but you've got to believe me. I've been set up. I'm not the leak, and the real guy is out there and this whole thing goes deeper than we ever imagined. He's the head of the gang task force for christ sake, and he may be just the beginning. I've got to stop this. Somehow, I've just got to take him down. Paige, you've got to believe me. Please." Mike begs.

He waits for her to consider his plea, and gives himself a moment to gather the courage to hear what she has to say. He knows it won't be good, but he can't put it off any longer.

Mike comes up behind her and unties the gag from her mouth. He prepares himself for a barrage of insults and obscenities but the silence that follows is worse.

Finally Mike can take the silence no longer a mutters a weak, "Are you hurt? I mean, I didn't break anything or injure you too badly..."

"So you're stalking me now?" Paige demands harshly, cutting him off.

"What? No! I didn't even know you were going to be there tonight. What were you doing in Lieutenent Sid Markum's living room anyways?" Mike demands. What did she think he was? Some jealous exboyfriend? Ok, yes technically he was, but that wasn't why he did this.

"I'm dating him." She spits out harshly. "What were you doing there?"

"You've got to be kidding me." Mike mutters, running his hand down his face. His life just couldn't get worse. Maybe it's not what he thought. Maybe she was undercover or something, anything to make this a little bit more bearable. "How… how did you even meet him? Did Briggs put you up to this?"

"No. He approached me in a bar one night. Offered to buy me a drink. What were you doing there Mike?" Paige says simply, turning the question back to him once again. When Mike can't answer her, she looks around the motel room in disbelief. The room is a mess of papers and garbage, and Mike is suddenly embarrassed, wishing he had cleaned up for his hostage. "This is where you've hiding out?"

"I couldn't run, Paige." Mike says simply. "You know me. You know I couldn't."

"I don't know you at all anymore Mike!" She yells harshly, the force of her words rocking the chair. "No one heard from you. What was I supposed to think? I thought you were guilty, or captured or even dead and you've been here all along?!"

"Paige, I'll explain everything later. I will, ok? Just you've got to trust me just one last time. Please, Paige. Don't trust Sid. He's lying to you. I can't tell you everything yet, but I promise I will. Just know, he's dangerous, you've got to stay away from him."

"Trust you? You're telling me SID is dangerous?! You're the one who abducted me in the trunk of a damn car and is on the run from the cops Mike!" Paige screams at him, and Mike knows she has no reason to trust him, but he needs her to. "What does Sid have to do with all this? What were you really doing there tonight?"

"I can't tell you." Mike says weakly. "Just please Paige. Stay away from him."

"I can't." Paige admits, averting her eyes.

"You actually… you have feelings for him." Each word feels like a knife in his heart as he says them outloud. Before he can stop himself he lamely asks, "Do you feel about him the way you felt about me?"

"You know what? I like his company because he never makes me feel like anything! I have cried every night for you, Mike. I can't do this anymore." Paige says darkly. Mike knows he just keeps hurting her and he hates himself for it. He can't do anything right. As much as it hurt, he knew she should find someone new. Someone who deserved her. Maybe that person wasn't Mike, but he would make damn sure it wasn't Sid.

"I know, and I just don't know what to do, Paige. Tell me what to do." Mike begs her.

"Turn yourself in. Get a lawyer. If you didn't do it we'll prove it." Paige implores him. Mike shuts his eyes to her request and he shakes his head. He can't do that. Not yet.

"I can't. Sid has guys everywhere. He'll fix the trial." Mike finally knows the dark truths that Graceland has been teaching him, that sometimes the law is wrong and you need to become evil to fight it. "I can't do this until he's gone."

"Mike, do you have any proof that it's Sid?" Paige asks, and Mike knows he sounds paranoid, but he needs her to believe him.

"He did this, Paige. I know it."

"Mike please. This is crazy. Just come back to the house. We'll talk to Briggs." Paige begs. When Mike stands still, ignoring her pleas, she changes tactics. "Please, Mike... I miss you."

He turns to stare at her. He knows she's been so angry at him, but here she is, even after he's kidnapped her, giving him a look full of vulnerability and longing. She's staring at his lips, licking hers subconsciously, the way she always does right before she kisses him. She's tied to a chair though, and can't make the move herself to finish the promise. So Mike does.

He leans down and kisses her deeply. It feels like home, and like everything will be ok if he can just live in this moment. She kisses him back, her lips soft against his own, and Mike gets lost in her kiss.

Mike hears the unmistakable sound of the safety being cocked and feels his own gun being pressed into his ribs.

He slowly pulls back, his lips still glistening with her saliva. He looks into her green eyes acceptingly. Mikes kiss wasn't real. It was a distraction to get him close enough so she could grab his gun and Paige knew it. She knows how to play men so well. Even knowing it was a trick, Mike would have done it all over again for that moment with her.

She looks scared of what she might do. Like she doesn't honestly know what to believe anymore. Mike has no clue how she managed to uncuff one of her hands from the chair and grab the gun, but he hopes she wasn't so desperate to break her thumb.

"Uncuff me. Slowly. No sudden movements Mike." She says and her voice trembles.

"Are you going to shoot me, Paige?" Mike asks calmly of his former lover. Even in this moment, with her holding a gun to his side, he feels a burning connection between them. An admiration for her and all that she is. She could shoot him dead right now, and he would die loving her.

"Just let me go. Set me free. Please." She says, and he knows she means more than just out of the chair.

"You didn't need the gun." Mike leans down and softly kisses her forehead as he unlocks her other wrist, ignoring the gun poking his side. "I would have let you go."

Once he's uncuffed Paige, he walks across the room to sit defeatedly on the bed. He almost wishes she would shoot him, though he knows she won't.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" Mike asks casually, staring at the floor as though nothing is changed. Like it's a lovers quarrel and not like he's just kidnapped her, or that she has a gun trained on him.

"I'll get a cab." She says snarkily. She sets the gun down and backs up cautiously to the door. When she realizes he will no longer fight her, she quietly asks, "If I asked you to run, would you?"

"If I asked you to stay away from Sid, would you?" Mike retorts. They both knew the answer. Neither one could walk away. Not while Sid Markham was alive.

She gives him one last look, and then turns and walks out the door. Leaving him in the dark.

"Soon we'll both be free, Paige." Mike promises the air, picking up the gun she left on the chair.


End file.
